


Under Telperion's Rays

by welcometolotr



Series: The Distant Ages [7]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Friendship/Love, Gen, M/M, Moonlight, Politics, Romantic Friendship, T'hy'la
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 01:44:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welcometolotr/pseuds/welcometolotr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maedhros works late, and Fingon finds him even later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under Telperion's Rays

Closing the door behind him, Maitimo sighed and straightened up. Reaching up, he released the clasps holding his hair neatly in plaits and let it tumble down his back. He deposited the intricate clips in a pouch on his belt and began to stride down the hall. Nolofinwe had been rather strident with him during the meeting – completely unnecessarily; he rather thought something was going on behind the scenes that was causing his uncle undue stress – and he was tired of political maneuvering. 

He generally enjoyed politics and the subtle art of language he was required to employ, but today had run long and he was ready for a break. In fact, the past few years had run long and he really was getting heartily sick of soothing his elders’ verbally inflicted wounds. His father had stopped going to the councils months ago, knowing that if he had continued it would have come to blows. His uncle was holding out, frustrations with the councilors not yet enough to force him to forfeit the battle. 

Maitimo himself was sticking to the fight admirably, he thought, but he also yearned to get out of the palace and go riding with his brothers, to talk to people that didn’t look like they had halberds up their arses, and to enjoy civilized conversation about topics other than the divisions between their people. He had been neck-deep in reports the other day when he realized that he had missed both one of Macalaurë’s lauded performances and Ambarussa’s first public debate. It was as if life had left him behind in that stuffy, crowded meeting room.

Sighing and shaking his hair out a little more, he continued roaming through the halls. Telperion was shining particularly beautifully, and he took a few minutes just to stand by an open arch, silently bathing himself in its silver rays.

\-------- 

Findekáno was always moving. He loved to run, swim, and ride, and when indoors he could be found wandering halls, braiding hair, drawing friends, and occasionally embroidering.  
On this night, he was wandering, drawn to the covered and arched walkways that threaded between wings, around gardens, and over ponds. He thought that tonight he was particularly deserving of their calm beauty, for he had been babysitting a whole horde of his younger cousins today and they had wreaked havoc with his nerves. The worst of it was that Grandmother Indis had been there and his normal urges to drag Angaráto by his shirt back to his desk had to be suppressed. Grandmother was far too nice, and her own children had been so well behaved (well, according to his father, but that was rather dubious) that she just didn’t understand the occasional need to toss an unruly child in the pond. (Apparently Uncle Fëanaro had employed this several times on Uncle Arafinwë and it was the reason why Uncle Arafinwë was so nice and sensible and rule-abiding nowadays.) 

Playing with his braids and the golden strands within, he came to an intersection and went left, back in the direction of the main wing. He let his eyes wander as he moved, admiring the play of Telperion’s beams over the marble stonework. Eyeing the stretch of path ahead, he paused, realizing that there was someone there. Noting silvery hair, he first thought that it was his cousin Turkafinwë, but he knew that his lady-killer relative was out with, predictably, a lady. (More specifically Irissë, which he was rather ticked off about.) 

Another look led him to realize that it was the Tree’s silvery light leeching the red out of Russandol’s hair. His cousin had finally gotten out of his meeting! He wanted to rush over and jump up for a hug- he viciously stamped down the urge. Staring for another minute, he watched the scene and imprinted it upon his memory. He was going to draw what he saw here as soon as he got back to his room – his beautiful cousin standing still by the railing, surrounded by marble arches, hand on the stone. Silver light illuminated his form, and his thick russet hair flowed freely down his back to what Findekáno knew was a rather shapely arse. 

Smiling, he started forward and walked smoothly down the hall to the elf. Maitimo’s back was to him, so he came close and tapped a broad shoulder, grinning widely when his cousin started and turned around. He was picked up bodily and hugged and he laughed. “Hello, Red. I see you’re out of your cell.”

Maitimo smiled and set his friend down. “Yes, they deigned to release me. Just in time for me to find you for dinner, too!” Seeing Findekáno’s raised eyebrow, he sighed. “I know, it took far longer than expected and it’s very late and long past dinner time but you’ll still break fast with me, no?”

Findekáno nodded. “But you owe me something. “ He reached up, twining his fingers through the hair around the handsome face in front of him. Maitimo smiled softly, reaching his hands out to hold his lover to him, and leaned down to meet soft lips. 

Foregoing the dinner that the elder had promised, the two lovers stood there for a long while, kissing and touching under the rays of Telperion. 

-x-


End file.
